Amazon - Part 11a: Boot Camp
By Itinerant
Edited by Amelia R

Biographer's Note: This is Nicole's story. It covers those events and people she finds notable in her life and chooses to share. If you have problems with it, take it up with her. I'm just a glorified stenographer.

**********

Wednesday, April 7, 2275
The Settlement

Interlude 2:

Nicole paused in her narrative, stretched, and checked the time.

"Oh my! We've managed to while away the entire afternoon."

Sarah's face flushed with her embarrassment. "Forgive me, Nicole! I hadn't meant to take all your day like this."

"You didn't know, dear, and I really don't mind," Nicole smiled and patted her companion's hand. "I'd hoped you would ask your question so I could tell you this story; I'm hardly upset that you gave me that chance I had hoped for.

"That said, remember that Gwen Tanais, Marguerite Fitzgerald, and I have meetings tomorrow in DC, with Interpol and the FBI, to share findings from the opposition's HQ; Friday, I have more meetings at the UN. If I recall correctly, you have meetings with the auditors for those two days, so you'll have to wait until at least Saturday afternoon for more of my history."

Standing, Sarah moved to her friend and queen, wrapped her arms around Nicole, and gave her a strong hug.

"I know we both have a lot to do, but I do appreciate your sharing your real past with me."

Nicole snickered. "Little sister, we're only four months along. Don't thank me until you've put up with the years between then and now."

*****

Pinpoints of light speckled the darkness outside her balcony, as Nicole dialed out on one of her secure lines.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Wanda, this is Nicole Harrison. Do you have a minute?"

"Of course, Nicole. What can I do for you? Since you're using given names I assume that it's unofficial."

"Definitely unofficial, Wanda. I wondered if you're still having that sixteenth birthday party Saturday for your granddaughter, Patricia. If so, I'd like to attend with a guest if I may?"

"Nicole, you know you're always welcome. You don't even need to ask; we're all rather fond of you, you know, and would be happy if you just show up sometimes."

Nicole felt her face warm, and she was grateful she wasn't using a video link.

"Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you can possibly know," said the ancient queen. "I'll see you a bit before noon on Saturday, then."

"We'll be looking forward to seeing you, then, Nicole. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Wanda."

*****
Saturday, April 10, 2275
The Settlement
6:30AM EDT

"Your Majesty, will you have some time today to continue your tale?"

"Perhaps this afternoon, Sarah, but I'd like you come with me to a Harrison family sixteenth birthday party for lunch, if James is willing to spare you."

Her relatively short, brunette friend replied, "I'm always at your disposal, Nicole. James is off at a technical conference this week and next, so I'm happy to join you." Sarah paused. "I hadn't considered it before, but are they related to anyone I know?"

A wide grin crossed her friend's face. "Could be!"

*****
11:50AM EDT

It was always a bit intimidating, Sarah mused, to watch Nicole's visible transformation from casual friend to monarch, even after having spent the last thirty-five years living in close proximity. ~It's just like the change on Wednesday morning when I asked my question, as if she's taking a mask off and showing her true self.~

Nicole had fully assumed her role by the time she strode through the doorway into Shamiqua Mason Hall, with Sarah following in her wake. Each man and woman within -- a large number of whom shared Nicole's hair color -- bowed briefly, including three older women who were the elders and Matriarchs of the Harrison family.

"Your Majesty," said one of the women as she stepped forward, "welcome to our celebration."

Nicole clasped hands with her greeter. "Thank you, Wanda. It is always a pleasure to join you at times like this. I think you've met Sarah Tanner? Sarah, Wanda is an elder and Matriarch of the Harrison family."

"Yes, I have. Thank you for coming, Sarah, it's very good to have you join us today."

"Thank you, Matriarch," Sarah said. "I'm honored to be here."

More introductions followed as Sarah found herself greeting, and being greeted by, Greta Harrison and Anne Ogle, the other elders of the family.

"Nicole? Would you be willing to make the presentation?"

"I'd be happy to, Wanda."

"Is something special happening today?" Sarah inquired of her friend.

Nicole shook her head. "This is just our normal sixteenth birthday celebration, and the birthday girl will be recognized as a young adult. She did have a well thought out project, so I'm glad to make it special for her."

A young girl had just entered the hall, and found herself the center of attention. She was about average in height, a bit taller than Sarah, with a slightly stocky build. Her strawberry blonde locks were cut short, falling just below her ears. She was visibly nervous when she saw the elders; Nicole and Sarah remained just out of the girl's sight as the family elders greeted the youngster.

Wanda stepped forward. "Patricia Harrison, child of the Harrison family, we are gathered to celebrate with you your sixteenth birthday. In our nation, for boys and girls who choose to accept the responsibilities, this is the age at which we declare you have crossed the threshold of adulthood, as in the Jewish nation, with the Bat-Mitzvah for girls or Bar-Mitzvah for boys, or in Chinese culture with Ji Li and Guan Li. You have also designed and completed a service project. As a token of your new status, you have chosen a necklace. Today, however, we have a special presenter. Your Majesty?"

Nicole, necklace in hand, stepped into the young woman's view; Sarah followed her. Patricia gulped, then curtsied. "Greetings, Y-your Majesty. Thank you for honoring me with your presence."

"Patricia, welcome to your new place in the Amazon Nation. You have not been called as a warrior in my service, not yet anyway, but as an adult, you are allowed some freedoms and have accepted responsibilities you haven't had before." With a smooth, practiced motion, she clasped the necklace around Patricia's neck. "Congratulations, Patricia."

"Thank you, ma'am. If I may ask a question, though?"

Nicole's smiled at the youngster.

"Certainly, Patricia, and I'll answer if I can."

"Your last name is Harrison, and you have the same hair color as a lot of our family. Are you one of the first queen's descendants too?"

Nicole smiled down at the girl, "No, dear, I'm not one of her descendants."

Patricia walked with the queen and family elders to a chair for her birthday meal. The next two hours were filled with eating and the occasional question. Nicole, when not answering Patricia's inquiries, wandered from table to table, pausing to chat briefly with one or another of the occupants.

Time passed all too quickly for Nicole, and there were other obligations needing attention. She hugged each of the elders of the family in parting, and, after collecting her friend and attendant, reluctantly began her walk back to her quarters.

"Thank you for coming, Sarah. I want those closest to me, you and a few others, to know my whole story. The people in that room are my descendants -- my own flesh, and blood, and bone. I wish I could tell them more and let them know that I'm here and still doing all I can to keep watch over them. It wasn't been safe before, though, and now my habit of silence is so strong it's hard to break."

"The people in that room remind you of one or another of your own children, don't they."

Nicole's laugh was watery. "Oh yes! At times, like today, it gets worse. Patricia reminded me a lot of my youngest, Elizabeth. Not her looks, she reminds me more of Amelia Ten-Broeck with her hair color, so much as her energy, curiosity, and forwardness. Liz would have done precisely the same thing as Patricia in asking that question.

"I'm not too surprised that it happens once in a while. I have several thousand direct descendants alive at the moment, so having someone who looks or acts like one of my babies is expected once in a while."

Silence reigned as they continued their walk; Sarah allowed her friend to walk long corridors of her memory without interruption.

Nicole wondered, as she walked, about the wisdom of attending the celebrations. ~Every time I go to a family celebration, I spend the evening sniffling and missing my own babies.~ She shook off the thought. ~I can't stop going. It's my only way to stay in close contact, even if they don't know me for who I am.~

Nicole nodded to her guards as she stepped into her quarters, and she invited Sarah to join her the next day for a continuation of Nicole's life story.

The small brunette frowned in concern at her friend's obvious emotional turmoil. “Are you sure you're okay, Nicole? James isn't home, so I can stick around for a while.” She carefully laid a hand on her friend's arm. “I know you're hurting. Isn't there something I can do?”

Before Nicole could respond, Artemis, patroness of the Amazons, faded into the room. Sarah, startled, stepped back and bowed slightly and blurted out, “Lady Artemis!”

“Hello, Sarah, it's good to see you again.” Artemis gave Sarah a one armed hug with a smile then looked sympathetically at Nicole.

“Hello, Nicole. I couldn't help noticing you're feeling a bit down today.”

Nicole tried to smile, but managed only a grimace. She closed her eyes, and bit her lower lip in an attempt to control her emotions.

Sarah hadn't known what to expect after hearing the story of Artemis' early attitude toward the redhead, but now, seeing her patroness wrap her arms around Nicole, and seeing the goddess receiving, in return, an almost desperate embrace, no doubt remained that a great healing had taken place over the years.

“Oh my dear child,” Artemis murmured, “I wish I could spare you this.”

“I miss them so much, Mom,” Nicole whimpered. “I miss my babies, and Sam, and....” She sniffled and laid her head on Artemis' shoulder. “I wish I could just see them again. I remember every moment of our time together perfectly, and it gets so hard.”

Sarah, as quietly as she could, slipped away to her own quarters. Nicole had always been a strong support to those around her; only now Sarah could begin to understand the terrible price her Queen had paid and continued to pay each day.

Artemis gently stroked the tall woman's back. “I know, daughter. Even knowing they're all well and waiting for you doesn't ease your pain in the here and now.” She whispered quietly, “Thank you, Nicole, for bringing my Amazons back. Nothing I can ever do will every repay that debt.”

Nicole straightened, shuddered, and forced a smile onto her face. “I accepted the task, and the price. I've had my rewards along the way, too. I couldn't have managed nearly so well without you, though.” She kissed the black-haired goddess's cheek. “Thank you for being there, Mom.”

“You're welcome, dear. Is there anything else I can do while I'm here?” She waited for a moment as Nicole considered.

“Actually there is. I've been working on that ceremony I'd mentioned and....”

*****
Sunday, April 11, 2275
The Settlement
Nicole's Quarters
10:30AM EDT

Nicole put her mug down as she looked at the cool, rainy morning outside. The temperature was in the low fifties, and neither she nor Sarah was interested in sitting and shivering for hours outdoors.

"Now, as I recall," Nicole began, "I had just left for Parris Island when we ran out of time. The next three months were really odd for me, as ... in a way, it was like Tom's time in high school. I knew how I could act, and interact, but it meant I had to set aside a lot of the lessons I'd worked so hard at for four months trying to learn how to live as a woman. The ride wasn't very interesting, but once I got there ..."

*****
Tuesday, March 27, 2001 (62/40)
JFK International Airport
8:30AM EST

"Mama, I told you I can't bring anything else with me."

Maria Peruzzi glared at her daughter for a moment, then sighed. "I know, Ida; your Papa talked to some of his friends who were in the Marines. I just wanted to give you a little extra for the trip."

Ida, a tall, swarthy, black-haired young woman grinned at her mother. "I know, Mama, and I really appreciate the thought. They gave me a list of what I could bring, and that's all I have. Papa, can you explain it to her?"

Her father, who was slightly taller than his daughter, just smiled and shook his head as he stepped up to give his eldest child a hug. "I'll try again, but you know your mother." He put his hands on Ida's shoulders and shook her gently. "I'm very proud of you, Ida. You work hard, and don't let anyone step on you. Be proud of yourself and your family, and we'll be there when you graduate."

"I'll work hard, Papa. You take care of yourself while I'm gone though, you hear?" she said, returning his hug. She added a peck on his cheek, then, after a last hug and kiss for her mother, Ida stepped away from her parent's car and into the airport terminal.

*****
Marine Corps Recruiting Depot - Parris Island
0030 Hours

It must have been a change in the drone of tires on pavement, or perhaps a turn she hadn't been awake enough to remember, but Nicole stirred to see lights near a building they were approaching.

Yesterday had been busy with all the last minute clean-up she wanted to do before leaving. Nicole had taken time after Angela left for work to spend a few hours with Elizabeth at Michael's cabin. She'd also left the Amazon scepter safely on her dresser in the cabin; there was no way she'd try to take it along to boot camp, and Angela couldn't accidentally stumble across it there -- or, even worse, an intruder looking for the thing.

Colonel Stirling had called late Sunday evening with some last minute advice; he said, "Your trip will be timed to arrive sometime at night. Any rest you can get during the day on Monday, or during the ride down, will be to your advantage."

His advice had been taken to heart, and she'd advised her traveling companion, Connie Sinclair, to use the idle time to get ahead on the sleep they wouldn't get for the next three months. Connie was still propped up against the window, sleeping with her mouth hanging slightly open. The little brunette had been visibly nervous from the first, though Nicole had perceived a strong sense of relief when Connie had spotted the tall redhead.

Nicole grinned at the memory and stretched a little to waken her sleep and travel-numbed body before checking on her seat-mate.

"Connie? Time to wake up; we're just about there." Nicole punctuated her words with a gentle elbow.

Connie stirred from the first dreamless sleep she'd had in weeks to find her 'target' pointing out the window. Given the wild weekend of packing and moving out of her apartment -- Rod Graham had offered long term storage for her meager belongings, bless him -- she'd expected to be too wound up to be able to sleep. A combination of droning tires and an inexplicably comforting feeling from sitting next to Ms. Harrison had allowed her to relax and catch up on rest she'd missed.

It was going to be hard to keep to her task of monitoring Nicole, but it was important -- to Connie and to Rod -- that she not fail in her duty to keep her watch and her distance.

Brakes squealed and hissed as the bus shuddered to a halt.

*****

Nothing, but *nothing*, could have prepared Nicole for the concentrated, willfully created chaos of the next five hours.

A Marine Sergeant, his bellowing voice reverberating as he rampaged up and down the bus's aisle, harried the half-awake recruits as they scrambled and stumbled off the bus to take their place in the yellow footprints on the pavement outside. That had been only a gust before the storm that followed.

A brief interlude of semi-quiet was permitted to call home. Connie was directed to another line as the redhead took a place in one of the queues. The intent was to notify family of their safe arrival, but Nicole dithered as she waited in line.

She'd discussed the question of 'Who should I call?' with her friends before leaving. She had no family -- not by the definition most people used, anyway -- but they'd concluded that Amelia, who had accepted power of attorney and responsibility for Nicole's finances, could let her sisters know she was here and okay. She wanted to say so much more than the script allowed, but she spoke her lines and stepped back into the maelstrom of confused youngsters.

Connie, who had made her call to Rod Graham, moved to rejoin the only familiar face in the room as they moved to the next station.

The redhead was waved through the haircut station as Nicole's hairstyle was reluctantly pronounced to meet requirements. Connie was subjected to a rapid shearing to bring her overly long locks into spec, but the rapid-fire activities kept the young woman distracted by new demands on her overloaded mind.

Familiar, comfortable clothing was soon replaced by a woodland camouflage uniform -- they called them BDUs -- as any last relics of civilian life were stripped way and replaced by Marine issue gear. Even her underwear was replaced and packed away until the end of training. All her new gear was stowed in what the quartermaster called an ALICE pack -- it looked like a backpack on steroids -- and a seabag.

On the other hand, she found an old comfort zone in the clothing. Having only shirts, trousers, and boots was almost like a return to being Tom; makeup was a thing of the past, now.

~I'm not sure this is all to the good,~ Nicole thought. ~I've only had four months of the new me, and now I'm too close to being back to the old me for comfort.~

The remainder of the day, and the next two that followed, were consumed by paperwork, and standing in line, and classes, and more paperwork, and standing in line, and medical examinations, and still more paperwork, and on and on ....

The forming platoon sergeants had the queen wishing fervently for earplugs or less sensitive hearing as they taught the flock of female recruits the basics of marching, wearing the military gear, and the fundamentals of boot camp language.

Showers in a group and scrubbing 'by the numbers' were going to take MUCH longer to get used to. The situation brought to mind Tom's years in high school, when the boys would dive into communal showers after gym or sport. It had been decades since Tom had shared a shower with anyone else ... except for a few delightfully memorable times with Beth. It was just a bit noisier now with the addition of screaming sergeants.

~The shower acoustics let the DIs get the most out of their lung power,~ Nicole thought as she scrubbed up.

*****
Wednesday, March 28, 2001
Tanner Home
5:45PM PST

Kate had been relatively quiet ever since returning from Virginia; Marie had bitten her tongue to give her visibly distressed daughter time to settle down, but the youngster had been cloistered in her room since arriving home today -- the situation seemed to be getting worse, not better. The elder Tanner woman had walked upstairs and stood quietly watching her child as she sat on her bed staring off into space and clutched a stuffed toy.

The orange, black, and white stuffed animal that had given her nickname, 'Tigger', to her had been acquired during a trip to Anaheim. It had been Kate's favorite animal until she'd reached an age when such things weren't 'cool'. The toy had been retrieved from her closet shelf and was being hugged as if it were a life preserver.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Marie inquired.

Kate didn't turn her head as she responded. "I'm scared, Mom. I feel like I'm way over my head."

Marie slipped in and sat beside the young Amazon. "Is this Amazon trouble?"

The youngster half shrugged and half nodded. "Sort of. While I was in Virginia, we had meetings with everyone there -- Nicole, the woman from England who just accepted the call, and the two who live in Virginia that I'd met before, Trish and Amelia. Nicole's off to boot camp, and she wanted to make sure the Amazons could keep working on getting set up, so we were all given jobs."

A familiar, motherly hand stroked her daughter's back. "So what job do you have that upsets you so much?"

"Momma," Kate wailed, "she made me her chief of staff! I'm supposed to keep things running while she's busy!" Kate hugged the tiger more tightly; its seams strained, but held.

Marie frowned. "Nicole just left you alone with the job?"

"Well ... not exactly. The woman from England, Judith, is married. She and her husband own a company in Great Britain, and they're supposed to help."

"Now *that* I can believe. There are only five of you so far, and you have experienced help if you need it."

"But ..."

"You said you wanted to go into management."

"But ..."

"This way you can learn the job slowly. It's perfect."

"But *Mom!*"

Marie fought down the smile that was trying to reach her face. Her daughter was outgoing, but had a tendency to underestimate her own abilities. "Kate, you have a task. You have help if you need it. Do you really believe that Nicole would drop this job on you if she had any concerns that you couldn't do it?"

The young woman blushed and shook her head. "No. I told you that Amazons have a bond with each other?" Her mother nodded. "I could feel Nicole's confidence in me even when I was feeling almost panicked. Even before she said anything, I knew she believed in me. I'm just afraid I'll screw up and someone will suffer, or worse, that Nicole will get hurt."

"That's what this is really all about, isn't it?" Marie said. "You're worried that you'll disappoint Nicole. You care for her very much."

Kate nodded. "Mom, when I was growing up, sometimes I wished I had a sister. Now I have one."

Her mother smiled. "Honey, I doubt Nicole expects you to be perfect. "You'll make mistakes; anyone would. What you need to remember is to start slow and ask questions."

Kate snorted in amusement. "Where have I heard that one before?"

"Perhaps the last dozen times you found yourself in a position of responsibility." Marie stood and gently drew her daughter to her feet. "You'll do fine, dear. Now it's time to get supper ready. Put your critter down and let's get busy."

Kate braced the toy against her pillow and then gently hugged her mother. "Thanks, Mom."

*****
Friday, March 30, 2001 (Fog/Rain; 72/57)
Parris Island, SC
0800 Hours

Nicole decided that her first really enjoyable station was the IST, or Initial Strength Test. She had to restrain the temptation to perform a complete pull-up, but she held the flexed arm hang for a full thirty seconds, rather than the minimum twelve. The crunches -- a variety of bent knee sit up -- were no more problem than the arm hang as Nicole easily completed one hundred in the allocated two minutes. She had no question about her ability to meet any strength standard required of any other Marine, male or female. She rolled gracefully to her feet and took a place to one side as Connie began her test.

The corporal called time, and Connie, gasping, collapsed as she completed her fiftieth crunch. The arm hang hadn't been hard, but the sit ups took more time to build up to than she'd been allowed in preparation. She couldn't help a smile as Nicole reached out with a hand to help the brunette up. The redhead's shoulder pat of congratulations made Connie's smile turn to a grin of self-satisfaction, and both turned their attention to encouraging their fellow recruits in their tests.

*****
1800 Hours

Lieutenant Colonel Karla Brown, commander of the Fourth Recruit Training Battalion, took her seat at the head of the conference table. The latest batch of recruits had been processed, and it was time to review and evaluate how to distribute this group.

"Okay, Top, what's the news for Captain Parker?"

Sergeant Major Laura Jessup, a short, dark-haired woman, pulled a summary sheet from her stack and scanned it quickly. "We have a big class this time, a full one hundred twenty recruits, and they seem pretty typical. Their ASVAB scores and physical conditioning seem average -- except for two that are way out there on the Bell curve."

Captain Amanda Parker nodded. Fully six feet tall, she had a build that made her look to be of average size -- until someone stood beside her. She'd seen enough of the files to have formed her own opinions. Her NCOs were capable, though, and she'd give them their head for now.

First Sergeant Samantha Richards, the Senior Drill Instructor for First Platoon and second only to the Sergeant Major, shot a look toward Jessup. "What do you mean? Are either of them going to be a problem?" She was in her late thirties, but her face was tanned and weathered by days out on the training grounds. Her build wasn't heavy, but her shoulders were broad and solid.

A short silence followed her question. Laura finally continued, "Hmmm. When I first read their files, I didn't think the one would last long enough to do any good or any harm; Harrison's ASVAB scores are off the chart, other than a weakness in automotive subjects; she's the oldest of the group at almost twenty-five, has a Masters degree, and her physical description seemed on the skinny side. She blew away the IST though. She could be a hell of an asset or a pain in the ass, depending on her attitude.

"The other one, Sinclair, is a little younger, but she's still a college grad. She doesn't rate as high as Harrison, but she's still a cut above our normal recruit."

Kim Ellison, Sgt. Richards's Assistant DI, looked over the data package. "I don't know that Harrison will be a problem, Sir. Sergeant Kolaric and I were watching the new group the last four days, and the impression I got was that Harrison looks like one of the more natural officer candidates I've seen. Even the answer she gave for not going for OCS immediately made good sense; she sounds like she's planning to go for it as a mustang."

There was a long tradition in the Corps of encouraging mustangs -- officers who began their career in the enlisted ranks -- as they had practical experience in keeping themselves, and their troops, alive.

"If Harrison's smart enough to know she doesn't have all the answers, she might work out," responded Staff Sergeant Winifred Jackson, "but those pampered college kids tend to be know-it-alls. It takes a while for them to clue into the real world."

"I'll keep a special eye on her," said Sam Richards. "We'll make sure she's tested, and if she comes up short," she shrugged. "Now, how do we divvy up the rest of the bodies?"

By midnight, the weary command group had sorted through each file and assigned the recruits to their platoons. Sam Richards got both Harrison and Sinclair in the hope that one or the other wouldn't wash out and would turn into a worthwhile Marine.

Each sergeant was carting along a tall stack of personnel files for each of the recruits under their command. Their spare time, such as they had, would be spent memorizing every available scrap of data to ensure they had an idea of where any weak points might be. Each recruit had a common set of skills to master, but even more important was learning how to master themselves and overcome any weakness that would endanger their fellow Marines.

Tomorrow morning they'd form November Company, and the hard work of turning this latest batch of raw recruits into Marines would begin.

*****
Saturday, March 31, 2001
Parris Island, SC
0800 Hours

The forming Drill Instructor strode into the squad bay and called the sixty women to sit on the deck around her. Nicole found a spot on the periphery and settled in. The DI's parting remarks were short, and to the point.

"This morning you'll all be picking up your platoon, and you'll begin one of the hardest times you'll ever face, but probably not the hardest. The Marine Corp is rewarding and challenging, and Boot Camp will begin preparing you for the challenges. This is training for the Corps, but isn't like the Corps. Don't quit; don't get discouraged. It's hard, but it will get better."

Nicole's thoughts drifted for a moment. ~"Not the hardest" has to be one of the biggest understatements of the year for my life.~

"You're all a bunch of lousy recruits. At the end of the next thirteen weeks, when you finally graduate, you'll be Marines. If you see me that day, remember this -- I'll want to shake your damned hand.

"Until then, you gotta work *hard*, move fast, yell loud, and give everything you have."

The Amazon felt the surging emotions of the kids around her. They were responding to the pep talk like a football team, and fierce grins were appearing on the young faces.

The DI told everyone to grab their gear. There was a swift scramble to gather up the already packed ALICE packs and seabags, and the slightly ragged lines of women marched out.

*****

Four columns of recruits sat on the deck -- Marine-speak for floor -- facing the front of the squad bay. Shortly after the last of the sixty recruits found their place, Captain Parker strode in.

The Captain gave a less friendly version of the forming sergeant's talk, then called out -- loudly, of course -- "Drill Instructors, your platoon is ready!"

Four ramrod-spined women marched out of the room to the front of the squad bay, taking their places to either side of the captain. The redhead recalled a comment from David Stirling that the DI who wore the patent leather belt was the Senior DI, and the only one who would be at all sympathetic to any concerns or complaints. Nicole returned her attention to the front of the room as the DIs finished their oath.

"... I will demand of them, and demonstrate by my own example, the highest standards of personal conduct, morality, and professional skill."

~Interesting. Most of them are actually taking their oath seriously, but someone up there is going to be a pain in the keester,~ Nicole decided.

Salutes were exchanged, and then the four DIs turned to look at the lines of recruits the same way hungry hyenas look at a trapped herd of gazelle.

Chaos followed.

The four sergeants -- Nicole was sure there were only four at the start -- seemed to multiply themselves as they roared a series of commands that were almost, but not quite, mutually exclusive. The volume and rapid-fire pace of the shouted orders left almost all the recruits spinning in confusion. The shouting wasn't the end of the barrage; the sergeants scattered the contents of the packs and seabags -- ALL the packs and seabags -- across the length and width of the squad bay.

The redhead's ears still rang, but the DIs had finally disappeared into the DI House. The only sounds now were the soft, quivering breaths of still shocked recruits who waited in fear for the next onslaught. One youngster was shaking as she silently wept.

A voice roared, "Who fucked up my squad bay!?" from a suddenly open door to the room where the monsters had vanished.

~Good enough.~, Nicole thought, as she looked around at the room. She was the first, but one or two others were beginning to stir. Connie was visibly shaken, but was beginning to look around as well.

"Connie," the Amazon said, "see if you can get a group working at sorting out the gear. Don't pack it, just put it onto each person's rack. I'll grab a few girls and brooms and get the deck swept up."

*****

Ida was stunned, at first.

The worst day she'd ever experienced in school hadn't been nearly as bad as this. Even the preparation she'd had from Papa's friends was nothing like it.

~Are they gone?~ she wondered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tall, skinny redhead look quickly around. Ida's temper exploded, as she heard the rich witch start giving orders.

"Who the hell put you in charge?" the swarthy, black haired woman snarled. She was nearly as tall as Nicole, but much more heavily built. "You think we'll mind you just because you're some kind of fashion model?"

*****

Raising an eyebrow, the redhead turned slightly to look at the speaker. "I'm stepping up because everyone else was too scared to move." She tilted her head slightly. ~Great! I don't really need a cat fight at the moment.~

"Fuck off, Twiggy! I'm not taking orders from a rich witch," the swarthy woman growled, as she reached out with both hands and shoved Nicole toward the wall.

"Straighten her out, Ida!" came from where the heavily built woman had been.

~Damn it! I thought testosterone poisoning was a guy thing,~ the redhead fumed. She stepped back from the shove and grabbed the other woman's wrist in a move she'd learned from David Stirling.

*****

Win Jackson was watching the developing conflict with a thin smile.

~College Girl is getting an education sooner than I expected.~

Her smile turned into a gape as 'College Girl' reacted to the assault.

*****

The wall didn't shake, but only because the Amazon deliberately slowed Ida before she hit. The dark haired aggressor's arm was carefully, but relentlessly, folded behind her back and held in an unbreakable grip.

"If you want to lead, then prove you're a leader by acting like one. Trying to out-muscle everyone is only going to get you hurt. Now, are you going to behave?"

Ida struggled to shift her arm or move away from the wall, but for all her struggles, she could only turn her head. "Let me go!" As she twisted her neck around to look at her captor, she was caught by Nicole's implacable gray eyes.

"Not until you promise to behave. We don't have time for this, and I don't have any interest in playing stupid dominance games. We have to work together as a team to make it through this training."

A quiet noise drew Nicole's attention to the rest of the room, but silence fell again as the redhead's eyes swept the other recruits. Only Connie seemed to relax rather than tense under the gray-eyed gaze.

It was like being caught between the wall and a truck. Ida couldn't understand how anyone as skinny as the redhead could be so strong, but she wasn't even making the fashion model work.

"All right! Okay! I'll behave!"

An instant later, she was free. Ida turned deliberately to face her opponent. She was baffled by the calm, almost good-humored look.

"Now then," Nicole said, "let's work as a team to get this place cleaned up before the DIs decide to yell some more. You pick a side, and I'll handle the side you don't take. We'll see how quickly we can get this place squared away."

~I suppose I should be grateful for my experience as a male right now,~ thought the redhead, ~women in the Marines are going to be more aggressive than the average female. It still seems stupid, though.~

*****

~Shit!~

Sergeant Jackson closed the door and turned back toward her fellow instructors.

"I'm not sure I believe what I just saw. Harrison started organizing a cleanup of the squad bay. Peruzzi decided to argue who was in charge, and she shoved Harrison -- or tried to. Peruzzi wound up pinned up against a wall, and Harrison looked like it was no effort at all."

Samantha Richards raised an eyebrow at the comment. "Didn't you pay attention to Harrison's IST result? She's slender, but hellaciously strong."

Kim Ellison glanced over at Samantha. "Are you still planning on having Harrison as Guide, Sam?"

Nodding, Richards replied, "Even more so, now. She's just demonstrated more ability to handle a challenge to her authority than I'd even hoped for. If Harrison can handle getting smoked for her platoon's screw-ups, she should do fine. I think, though, I want Peruzzi at first squad leader, and Sinclair in the second. I want to reward smart, aggressive behavior. Peruzzi needs to learn the smart half. Sinclair is too passive at the moment, and it usually takes more work to teach a woman to be aggressive. She has all the smarts you could want, but she needs to get that combat edge."

*****
Sunday, April 1, 2001
Amelia and Trish's apartment
12:15PM EDT

Trish woke slowly and reluctantly. She was still weary from the previous night's performance, but her cooling bed had wakened her. Darkness still wrapped the room despite the hour, as she slowly sat up, stretched, and padded quietly out to join her partner, wrapping herself in her robe on the way.

"Morning, Trish." Amelia had turned to look toward her slow moving roommate, who wandered over for a liberal application of affection. "There's plenty of hot water ready for your tea."

"Morning yourself, Mela," Trish responded, "didn't you sleep well?" Silence filled the room while she allowed her tea to steep, then returned to settle into a chair.

"I woke up early, and my brain started chewing on our relationship, wanting to have a child, Nicole and the Amazons," the blonde wave a hand, "all the things that have happened in the last few months. I was fretting a bit about Artemis, and a lot about her boss."

"I get that. I'm still trying to get my head around the idea that angels and Greek goddesses are real."

Amelia hesitated before responding. "That isn't the part that I'm fretting about, love. All the implications that follow are what are causing me to worry. I believed in a higher power -- God -- before, but without proof it was more an intellectual exercise. Now I'm inundated with evidence that it's real, and I can't help but wonder if there are things I should do differently."

"I understand, I guess. But don't forget that Artemis seems to be pretty happy with us as we are, and Nicole does, too. I don't think either one would do that if their boss wasn't willing to put up with how we live our lives. Are you thinking about finding a church, or something?"

"I'm not sure," said the blonde. "I've looked around before, and the schedules are too early for our weekends. It's bad enough Monday mornings when we've slept in on Sunday."

Trish nodded. "I agree, but if you want to try to find a place...."

"We'll see what we can find; I guess I want to think and talk about it. The tasks Nicole left for us are more urgent, I think; I'm not sure how to tackle them, though. For example, the vending guy should really be worked through the company, but I don't think we can without blowing our cover. The Sinclair woman is an even worse problem. At least with the firewall problem I can keep working using company time and resources."

Trish wrapped her arms around Amelia's shoulders and hugged her gently. "You know, I think I may have an idea how to tackle those other tasks. There's a company that handles concert security around here, and they also do investigations as a sideline. The owner gave me a card when she came to a coffeehouse."

"Who are they?"

"The company is called BAST, Bast Advance Security Teams, and the owners are Genevieve Bast and her husband, Dexter. They were cops in Los Angeles and Hollywood for about twenty years before they went to work in the concert security business, then they started working for themselves. They moved here since there was too much competition out west. Their contacts let them skim off the top acts from the beginning, and they've been growing slowly ever since."

Amelia's jaw dropped, then she began to giggle, which earned her a confused look.

"What?"

"You've never heard the name Bast before, other than this security firm?"

"No. Should I have?"

"'Bast' was the name of an Egyptian cat goddess who the Greeks said was a Goddess of the Moon. The Greek's own Moon Goddess was -- drum roll, please -- Artemis!"

Trish rolled her eyes. "You and your anthropology classes are at it again!" She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you think ...?"

"It may just be pure coincidence, but it's still pretty funny. I'd probably start with Ms Bast just because of the name factor."

"I'll give her office a call tomorrow. We'll need to get an idea of the costs, too, so we can figure out how much help we'll need from Judith," Trish said. She paused, and giggled herself. "You're right though. The name *is* pretty funny."

*****
Monday, April 2, 2001
Amelia and Trish's Apartment

"Hello, this is Genevieve Bast speaking."

"Hello, Ms Bast. My name is Trish Peyton. You gave me your card at a coffeehouse some weeks ago, and I was wondering if you'd have time to meet with me. My partner has a possible problem at work, but we want to keep any investigation quiet for fear of a leak. Are you available for a meeting with us so we can outline the situation?"

Genevieve sat quietly in her chair for a moment. She recalled the young musician; her sharp memory for names and faces was an important tool in her business. Her schedule, for the next few weeks anyway, was fairly clear.

"Yes, Trish, I remember your performance, and I still enjoy listening to your CD when I have time. If you have one, and want to avoid attention, we could meet at your performance this week."

A few minutes later, the two hung up after ensuring the address of Trish's next set of performances was correctly copied.

*****
Parris Island

~I'm going to go mad from boredom,~ she decided.

Nicole was loping along at a pace set by Drill Instructor Sergeant Jackson -- it was safest to think of them that way. The first, and last, recruit to forget had provided a very memorable demonstration of the consequences of failure -- which was intended to be just within the abilities of most of the recruits.

Most.

Each squad had one or two who were gasping already from exhaustion, but Jackson jogged on, unmoved by their troubles. Every recruit would rise to the challenge -- or they would be bounced from training.

Nicole felt sorry for the laggards. They'd be getting extra time to work on their conditioning later in the day, but there was nothing she could do to help.

Jackson's voice rang out, and the platoon began yelling out another "Jodie" as they pounded down the street.

*****

Connie swiped a rivulet of sweat from her forehead just before it slithered its way through her eyebrow and into her eye. Washington was humid, that was a given, but she hadn't tried to run outside in the early morning fog.

Her purely physical efforts allowed time to wonder if she'd completely lost her mind when she agreed to enlist. ~I don't like fighting. I really don't think Nicole is worth following. I hate this stupid, mindless regimentation.~

She wouldn't quit, though. Stubborn was too mild a term for her, and she'd be damned if she'd let a bunch of camo-clad sadists win.

Her musings were set aside as she began to yell out the "Jodie" along with the other recruits.

*****
Tuesday, April 3, 2001
Hunter Security
8:00 AM EDT

Rod nodded to Frank Thompson as he took his seat at the conference table. Connie had been assigned to the same platoon as their target; she'd be able to monitor Nicole Harrison's activities for the duration of boot camp.

Now, while that was underway, Rod and his subordinates would pursue breaking into Wing's offices and Connie's idea regarding the scepter's recipient.

Rod began, "We have enough people to work both tasks as long as we work efficiently. Frank, I want you to head the Wing investigation. We need to find out who provides their security system, how it's set up, and where we can find a weak point. Double check the staff's routine; if we can move when no one's inside, life will be much simpler. I want you to start from scratch; assume all our existing data is bogus. When you have the security system and staff schedule, we'll start choosing out insertion team."

"Rod," Frank said, "we've been thinking about this for a while, and we'd like to try something. If the vending group can place some equipment into their machine, we can sense the power use changes in the building. That'll let us correlate people with power and get a better idea of how many people are actually in their offices."

Rod nodded. "Do it. We'll trigger a vending machine failure tomorrow, and get the equipment in place.

"Todd," Rod looked at a short, black-haired man, "you're heading the re-check of the airport data. Find out if there are any females of any age -- even infants -- at that airport during the time frame. Double check to see if Harrison was there, but I really don't expect it."

He scanned the group one last time. "I want presentations from each of you, two slides maximum, before the nine o'clock conference call with the chairman."

*****
Hunter Security
10:00 AM EDT

~I'm not sure anything can be worth this job's stress level.~

Rod pinched the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to ease his headache. The chairman had nodded in approval of the series of steps that should, once and for all, confirm or disprove a link between the Artemis-infested company, Wing Ground Sensor Systems, and the yet-to-be-located Amazon queen. Rod had no complaints about that part, at least.

The first depressing comment from the other end of the connection came immediately after his final slide.

"Very good, Mister Graham. You seem to have a reasonable and comprehensive series of steps." Rod relaxed minutely. "I think your efficiency has made the success or failure of Miss Sinclair's efforts almost irrelevant."

Rod managed to suppress most of his cringe. He didn't want to believe that the company would jettison an employee so casually -- especially one who'd done as much as Connie before her punishment was imposed. He caught twitches in some of his coworker's shoulders as they, too, struggled with the pronouncement.

His concern turned to a simmering anger at the next statement.

"Your office is understaffed at the moment. Mister Diego Derbez, from the Los Angeles, California, office, is being transferred to Washington to remedy that situation."

"And what about ... Miss Sinclair's position?"

Rod's arms crawled with goosebumps at the slow, considered stare from the chairman.

"If she succeeds, I will keep my promise even though I hold little hope. Our operations in your region will be more important in the months to come, and we cannot afford to have problems caused by understaffing.

"You have your orders, Mister Graham. I expect you to carry them out."

A gesture of the chairman's hand followed, and only a test pattern remained from his video feed.

*****
WGSS Offices
1:30PM EDT

Amelia knocked hesitantly on the office doorframe. It wasn't her first trip to this office, and she'd met the person inside. Nicole had already as much as said that Amelia's relationship with Trish was accepted, but now she was going to ask for personal, visible support. It was unnerving.

"Dr. Wing? Do you have a few minutes?"

"Of course, Amelia." Michael smiled and waved Amelia into his office. "Please, close the door so we can have some privacy." He waited quietly as the blonde closed the door and took seat. Amelia was visibly nervous, and her palms were wet with sweat.

"Now, what can I do for you?"

She took a deep breath and gazed uncertainly at the person she'd first known as Doctor Wing. She hadn't had much one-on-one interaction with him, even before 'Hurricane Nicole' had blown in and upended her life. Nicole's revelation, just after the 'tickle' occurred, of her bosses' real identities made a simple question like this terribly nerve wracking.

"Nicole said you are much more than the historian and archaeologist I'd first met -- that you're the Archangel Michael. That's an idea that I'm having a hard time dealing with."

He leaned forward, propping himself on the desk with his elbows; his blue eyes glittered with good humor, though he repressed the smile that tried to reach his face. "I think that's an understandable reaction. Are you more worried about her being wrong, or being right?"

"If she's wrong, at worst I'm embarrassed. If she's right ...." She gave a quick shrug. "Either way, you're important to the Amazons as far as Nicole is concerned, and after what happened with Artemis, the evidence is pretty strong that she's right."

He leaned back again with a gentle smile. "You aren't wrong, child, on either point. There's really no reason to be afraid, though. I'm no different from the person you've always known, no matter which role I'm in. I'm a bit constrained in what I'm permitted to do, but I'm here to help you as I may. You have a question?"

She fiddled with an earring for a moment before beginning. "You know that Trish is my partner, I assume. I can't imagine my life without her in it, and though I know there's no way to have a legally recognized marriage, we want something more than just living together. We want to have a ceremony to make a formal commitment to each other."

He cocked his head in question. "So, why are you so worried about coming to me?"

"You've been someone I have thought of as a friend, and I'd have invited you without question. But ... I really don't want to offend now that I know what and who you are. Even if Trish and I have been chosen and accepted as Amazons, that doesn't necessarily mean that you ... approve or accept our relationship. Still, Trish and I want to have you present for the ceremony." She paused for a moment. "To be completely truthful, we'd like to be able to have a legal wedding with you there. Could we talk you into waving your hand and fixing that?" Her face reflected her own skepticism.

He shook his head. "Could everyone be reprogrammed? Yes, it could be done. God doesn't care to turn the human race into puppets, though. One thing that makes each one of you so very precious is your ability to freely choose right and wrong -- and accept the consequences of those choices. You don't really want that taken away, do you?"

"No," she looked down in frustration, then back up at him, "not most of the time anyway."

"I'll admit," he continued, smiling gently, "that there is a point or two I'm interested in regarding your relationship and how you're approaching this ceremony. You and Trish hope to have children? You more than Trish, I suspect." He grinned as the young woman blushed, but nodded.

"Guilty as charged," she responded. "I know that an unconventional family may make his or her life harder, but," she looked at Michael with an iron determination in her eyes, "our children will be wanted, cared for, and loved with all our hearts."

He nodded in approval; they were thinking through the consequences to those around them.

"Of that, Amelia, I have no doubt at all. The other point I want to raise is whether you and Trish are preparing for a long life together. Have you had any premarital counseling?"

She shook her head. "We haven't so far. It's hard to find counselors willing to help lesbian couples."

"That's important, and something I'd demand of any couple -- conventional or not; you can ask for help in finding someone, if you need it. Take care of that, and I'd be happy to be there. You'll have my blessing ... and His."

Her eyes widened and shimmered with tears of joy. She managed to choke out a "Thank you!" as she left.

Michael leaned back in his chair, seemingly listening to someone before saying, smiling, "Yes, I agree. They are wonderful children, aren't they?"

*****
Parris Island, SC
1430 EDT

"One, two, three, forty-nine!"
"One, two, three, fifty!"

Nicole, Ida, and Ida's squad held their 'forward leaning rest' position. Ida's squad had managed to incur the wrath of the sergeants by not being perfect in making up their rack, or not having sufficiently shined their boots, or any of the myriad offenses that resulted in 'quarterdecking'.

Ida, as squad leader, enjoyed extra outdoor exercise when any of her squad goofed..

Nicole was in her fourth session that day, and wondered how anyone else managed. ~At least they're changing the exercises at times, but *sheesh!*~

*****
6:00PM EDT
Amelia and Trish's apartment

Supper was just about ready, and Trish was using the idle time before her love returned home to get in some practice. Her immersion in her music wasn't enough to keep Trish from picking up her partner's arrival outside their door.

"So what happened today that has you all wound up?" Trish asked, as the two disengaged from their warm embrace.

Amelia smiled. "I spoke with Doctor Wing today and asked him if he'd attend our commitment ceremony, whenever it happens."

Trish's face darkened at yet another reminder of the couple's second class status. Her voice carried only a fraction of the anger that Amelia sensed in her partner's emotions.

"And…? Is he already booked for whatever date we pick?"

Amelia caught and held her love's eyes; her voice gently chided her partner.

"That's not fair, sweetheart, and you know it. I was Called, and you were officially approved when Nicole invited you. In fact, Michael said that he wants us to go through premarital counseling before any ceremony. If we get the counseling, he said he'd be happy to be there, and that we'd have his blessing ... and his boss's blessing, too."

A brief flare of joy was swamped by renewed frustration and sorrow from the younger woman. "It's not fair! It isn't *right!*" Trish's eyes glittered with unshed tears. "I'm happy and grateful that Michael's willing to give us his approval, but still," she caressed her love's cheek, "it hurts to have to settle for less than a real marriage -- like we're not really people." She sniffed, wiped her eyes, and gave a wan smile. "I daydream about it, sometimes."

"Love, if it's that important to you, we could try moving to Vermont; they have civil unions, so we could get all the legal issues solved. It's not too far from my folks, and I'm sure they wouldn't complain about having us closer. I might even be able to work out something with the company on a part-time basis."

Trish shook her head. "I love your parents, but I think we need to be here for now. There's a reason for Doctor Wing being here. Maybe one day, if there's no alternative."

"One day, Trish, maybe we'll have a chance at a real wedding. For now, we have to find ourselves a good counselor."

"I'll ask some of my friends if they know anyone; there are some couples who I'm sure know someone." She paused for a moment, and Amelia could see the wheels turning. "Mela? Did you talk to Artemis at work?"

"No, she wasn't in today. Why?"

"Do you think she'd help us put together an Amazon wedding? Maybe we can use that rather than what we'd originally talked about. It won't be legal as far as the state is concerned either way, but since we're planning on writing up our own ceremony, and we're both Amazons, it seems appropriate."

Amelia was taken aback, but only momentarily. "That's a great idea! We'll have to be careful about setting it up, and you know that means we'll have to wait until Nicole can come, too."

Trish grinned. "That just means I can take my time to pick Artemis' brain for ceremonies and music. I need to spend time working with her anyway; this lets me make progress on both at once."

*****
Friday, April 6, 2001
Alexandria, VA

~It isn't the Birchmere, but it's a pleasant little place to play,~ Trish decided as she hauled her gear into her latest venue. She smirked a bit as she parked her end of the trunk on the floor next to the table. Hauling her boxes of CDs and other merchandise had been a hassle. Mela had organized everything after the first time she'd tried to replenish a CD from the boxes of stock. It hadn't gone well. The two were now able to load and unload in half the time, and still find everything.

Best of all, now it was like loading and unloading a truckload of feather pillows. She had to be careful, but set-up went quickly, now, and she wasn't winded at all.

The young musician's first set went wonderfully. She'd only begun to explore what her new physical abilities allowed, but her mind was echoing with new tunes, new runs -- so many new possibilities. Not all of them were predicated on her physical boost; many of the ideas were things she could have done before. It was more a matter of confidence -- confidence in the love she shared with Amelia in a way she'd never imagined was possible, and confidence in herself that was founded on that love. She sipped on her water, and wandered through her private, inner universe of sound.

"Ms Peyton?"

Trish started at Genevieve's voice. She looked up to see an Asiatic woman, with black hair and broad, strong shoulders. Her face wasn't beautiful, but it was pretty, and reflected the strength of the woman.

"Oh! Ms Bast, it's a pleasure to see you again. I think you remember my partner, Amelia?"

"Yes, I do, and please just call me Genny. Ms Bast is too stiff and formal. Is there a place we can speak privately?"

Moments later the three women were cloistered in Trish's dressing room, and Genny was receiving her briefing about the situation about the mysterious firewall pounding, the odd behavior of the vending machine serviceman, and the suspicious behavior of Connie Sinclair.

"Do you think the issues are related?" Genny asked.

"We think so," Amelia responded. "The worst of it started when our friend, Nicole, was hired in. We're not certain, though, that it isn't coincidental."

Genny nodded to herself. "Okay, I can do at least an initial check to see if there's a common source between Sinclair and the serviceman. I'm not a computer expert, though, and I can't really do much there. I'll e-mail you an estimate of what I think it will cost for the first step, and I'll let you decide whether you want to proceed." She broke off for a moment to sneeze. "Is there anything else I can do for you at the moment?"

Trish shook her head. "Not now. We really appreciate your coming Genny."

*****
Saturday, April 7, 2001
Letters Home - Week 1

Parris Island, SC
07 April 2007

Dear Michael,

Yes, I'm deliberately using military style dating. I suspect it will be easier if I get acclimated to my new environment, including the weather. The inevitable morning fog isn't much fun, as we're almost dripping as soon as we step outside. The temperatures aren't too bad; I'm getting to like the warm. :-)

Rather than try to squeeze in a raft of short notes during the week, I thought I'd take a little more time today for a longer letter. Feel free to share this with anyone who's interested at work.

For the most part, this week has been filled with an introduction to the Marine Corps -- including the 'rules of the road' -- some of the basics of hand-to-hand combat, and some information on various weapons. It's a 24/7 immersion in a warrior culture, and very effective indoctrination. I expected it, but there are still parts of it all that I have a hard time accepting. Hard time or not, it's all part of the job I accepted.

Despite the difficulties it's been interesting, as I've pretty much ignored most of the topics they cover. The down side is that, since I'm what they call the Guide -- the senior recruit in the platoon -- I have to make sure everyone else in the unit gets it all memorized. If they mess up, then not only do they get what's lovingly called IPT -- Incentive Physical Training -- but I do, too. It isn't hard, not compared to what the Colonel put me through; it drives the DIs crazy. *Snicker!* The poor kids are pushed to the limit, though. We've split up those needing the most help into small groups, with those of us with a handle on the material drilling the slower ones.

Monday was mostly physical exercises, and classes in the UCMJ -- the Universal Code of Military Justice -- including the infamous 'don't ask, don't tell'. It wasn't overly interesting or challenging, just rote memorization. There's no excuse though for anyone not to know the limits.

Tuesday, we got into the duties of the Interior Guard, and the DIs set up what they called a fire watch. That means we rotate through staying up during the night. Oh joy, oh bliss. The other part of Tuesday was the start of martial arts, which wouldn't be so bad if not for the requirement to use 'KILL' to accompany every movement. *sigh* David's preparation has helped a lot in knowing the terminology, and I really think some of the women at WGSS would also do well to have some training to ensure they can escape from attackers.
We had a day of learning about ranks, saluting, customs and courtesies on Wednesday -- and drill -- and exercises. Thursday was learning all the uses of a bayonet; it was a day when having a vivid imagination wasn't a good thing.

I did like the classes on Marine history on Friday. They focused on individuals who'd been awarded the Medal of Honor or Navy Cross; I admit I’d never realized just how many there were. I know they're indoctrinating us, but when you listen to what some of those people did it's impressive; they gave everything for their mission and their comrades. We also started working with our rifle -- NOT gun!

Today was learning the care and feeding of our M16 -- disassembly, cleaning, reassembly, more cleaning, ... -- and more classes, this time on Core Values. The intent is great, and I don't think anyone can argue that honor, courage, and commitment are bad things. I'm just waiting to see how they live it out.

One of my biggest problems, so far, is getting enough to eat. None of the exercise is hard, but I'm so physically active that I wake up ravenous. I have to be careful, or I'll wash out for being underweight. *grimace* I'm always the last one in the line to eat, and I have to eat *quickly*. I'm trying to pick out the foods with more protein and fats since they have more calories per portion, but even so it's hard to inhale enough food to keep going. Meals are different here, as recruits are required to eat silently, with their free hand in their lap, and sitting at attention. As I said, it's different.

I'm very grateful, at the moment, that I'm the 'old lady' in the unit. Some of the kids have had a hard time adjusting to being away from home, and the homesickness is giving a lot of them fits; I'm well past the worst of that, I'm happy to say. I do miss everyone, and I look forward to being able to see you all again when all this is done. I may be jumping the gun, but I really hope some of you can make it down for 'Family Day' and Graduation, which are 21 and 22 June. I'll understand if you can't. Just let me know either way, so I can make arrangements to get home if you can't make it.

Michael, if you don't mind doing me a BIG favor, I really am going to need more stationery and a roll of stamps. I have letters here from Kate and Amelia, and they sound as if they're planning a raid if I don't write back more often. I'll reimburse you as soon as I can, or you can deduct it from my bank account.

I need to close and get some sleep. I'll try to get another batch of letters out by mid-week.

I've told them in my letters, but give my love to everyone there. I miss you all.

Love,

Nicole

*****
Sunday, April 8, 2001
Parris Island, SC

Nicole sighed as her butt hit the mattress of her rack. She'd attended the available church services, and though they were better than nothing, they lacked the intellectual depth she had always enjoyed.

~I can't say it's just milk, but it was hardly what I'd consider a good, hearty, spiritual meal. There's precious little left to chew on afterward. The poor pastor has to target those most in need, so I'll just have to do some 'home cooking.'~

"Back already?" Connie looked up from reading her letter -- re-reading, in truth, as she'd received only one, from Rod's wife, Chelsea, since arriving. She kept it in a waterproof pocket, safe from the predations of rampaging DIs. It was precious to her as the only tangible sign that someone, somewhere cared.

"It was a short sermon today, and I decided there were letters to write." Nicole waved at a small stack of correspondence. "I think I'll need the extra time." She regretted the words almost as soon as she'd said them.

Connie's face fell at the unwitting reminder of the difference between Nicole's torrent of correspondence received since their arrival, and the slow drip of letters she'd received herself.

"I'm sorry, Connie. That was a thoughtless thing to say."

The brunette shook her head gently. "It's okay, Nicole. You didn't intend it that way, and," she shrugged, "it isn't like you're exaggerating. I envy you having so many people who care enough to write so much. Did your parents send along any comments about your enlisting?"

Now it was the redhead's face that fell in remembrance of her own losses. "No. They passed away a few years ago." She shrugged, and looked at Connie with a half-smile.

"I understand," Connie said, returning the half-smile. "My parents are gone, too." She frowned. "I really miss them, especially these days. I just hope someone I know will be able to come to graduation."

"I'm not sure if anyone I know will be able to make it either. I'm hoping that a couple of friends from work will be there; I'll be happy if I get that many. You don't have any extended family? No brothers, or sisters, or aunts, or uncles?" Connie just shook her head. "Me neither. There are times...."

The two exchanged a forced smile.

The conversation moved on to firmer, less painful grounds as the two swapped childhood memories and musical preferences -- Nicole found that Connie was a heavy metal aficionado.

Neither realized, yet, that the other was referring to a non-existent past.

*****

Ida sat quietly, studying her material from the Marine History class. History had been one of her least favorite classes; she didn't really care about boring lists of names, dates, and places. The prospect of spending time sweating under Parris Island's sun, feeding the mind boggling array of hungry insects as she endured repetitions of exercises, kept her mostly focused on her task.

Harrison had slithered in after attending the Protestant service. She and her bosom buddy, Sinclair, had almost immediately struck up a conversation that was just audible. Ida winced as she listened.

~No family at all?~ Ida thought of her parents, siblings, aunts, and all the other extended family she'd had around all her life. She couldn't imagine life without them.

She flexed her shoulders and forced her attention back to her studies.

~They're probably just trying to mess with my mind.~

*****
Amelia and Trish's Apartment
4:30PM EDT

~Not much time, but I have to make sure Judith and Kate know we're busy over here.~

Amelia's fingers gently tapped away at her Mac's keyboard, as she outlined the contact she and Trish had made with Genny Bast. The lack of hard information was annoying, but at least Judith could be using her own contacts to get an idea of what they should expect for costs. She might also have someone who had heard of the Bast organization.

~I don't know what Kate might do with this, but Nicole gave her the responsibility of coordinating things, so she has to be in the loop, too.~ She pursed her lips. ~She lives out in LA, come to think of it, so she might know someone who's dealt with the Basts.~

*****
Tanner Home
4:00PM PDT

~Mail?~

Kate opened her mail program, skipping quickly to Amelia's message. She took a few minutes to read then re-read it, before finally moving the mail to a special folder.

~I've never heard of them, but maybe Mom has. It might be risky to have her asking around too much, but who knows?~

She bounced down the stairs, intent on hunting down whatever information she could.

"Mom! I have a question for you!"

A few minutes later, Kate had the number for security at the studio that had contracted her mother for research. She'd have to wait until morning for her call, though. The man she needed wouldn't be in until seven o'clock.

*****
Monday, April 9, 2001
Epps Home

"David? I just received confirmation from our Swiss office that the new, numbered accounts have been established. There's one for general operations, plus two others for Kate and Amelia to draw upon. I'm assuming that Trish will have access to Amelia's account for now. All of us will have access to the general account."

Her husband nodded his approval. "Very good, and I'm pleased it has gone so quickly. How long before the credit cards tied to the accounts arrive?"

"Tomorrow; it seemed wise to use a courier service, given the amount of money involved. I'll send the cards out to everyone when they arrive, and I'll let Amelia hang onto Nicole's card. I'm expecting our incorporation papers will arrive in the same packet."

The Epps had decided, for ease of handling tax issues, to set up a shell corporation with offices in Switzerland and Delaware. As long as they received their tax revenues, the EU and IRS wouldn't look too closely at a small consultancy firm, "EC-Prime Consulting", that was spun off to handle miscellaneous issues for the Epps' company.

She sat down at their new household computer to send notifications to her sister Amazons. Amelia's e-mail was waiting, and she quickly scanned its contents. She waved David over, and sat back as he, too, read the message.

"I don't think I've heard of that firm," he murmured, "but that's hardly a surprise. What are your thoughts on the matter?"

Judith twitched her mouth into a smile. "Perhaps our company's security office might have some information. They needn't know more than that a friend is looking for any observations about the firm. Reggie's also bright enough not to ask more questions than absolutely necessary. He might have some questions about what sort of investigation was needed, and why."

She stopped to think for a moment. "We needn't, and shouldn't mislead him. Our friend is looking for aid in determining whether someone is, indeed, targeting her employer. Reggie understands the need for care in industrial espionage cases, and at the moment Amelia's situation appears to be just that. If you would speak to him, I'll send a reply to Amelia and Kate that we'll send what data we can when we've had a chance to ask our people."

*****
Parris Island, SC

"Ooof!"

Nicole hit the ground, and despite all her pads -- and the natural cushioning of a well-rounded female bottom -- her surprise provoked a sudden exclamation.

"Back on your feet, recruit! That was pathetic! You do that piss-poor a job in a real fight, and we'll have to scrounge for enough body parts to bury." Sergeant Ellison's face was contorted in disgust. "Try again, and see if you can't last more than twenty seconds this time."

Ida stood easy at one edge of the ring and idly swung her pugil stick. She'd been nervous about stepping into the ring with Harrison, but her fear, based on her manhandling in the barracks, had been more than offset by a raging desire for payback. She'd been smugly satisfied as her furious barrage, launched without hesitation at Ellison's command, had landed three solid shots to her rival's torso and head.

Nicole didn't need her empathic abilities to know how Ida felt. Gleaming teeth, revealed by a wide grin, communicated the young woman's feelings perfectly.

~That's one,~ thought the Amazon. ~The sergeant said aggression was the key to winning, and I didn't pay enough attention. *My* turn, this time.~

Ida frowned at the sort-of smile on Harrison's face as the redhead took her stance. It resembled the sharp-fanged grin of a lioness examining her next meal, and it left Ida frowning.

Seconds later, Ida's frown became a grimace as she creaked her way back to a standing position after being on the receiving end of a lightning fast series of strikes.

*****

"Use the mnemonic 'BBS' if you need to. Breathing, Bleeding, Shock -- those are the very first things you need to check, in that order, when you have a casualty."

Much of her First Aid instructor's presentation was review from material she'd seen years before, when Tom had been a Boy Scout seeking his First Aid merit badge. Other parts of the presentation materials were new, in particular CPR. That hadn't even been developed until about 1960, and it wasn't until the mid-70's that the Red Cross started pushing the technique.

~A bit late for Boy Scout Tom,~ Nicole mused. ~It's a useful skill to have. I'll have to check whether the gang has had this training.~

*****
Fairfax, VA
WGSS Offices

Firm rapping on her office door frame was almost, but not quite, masked by rumbles of thunder. Amelia's head popped up from her print-out, and she nodded at David Stirling, whose hand was just ready to knock again.

"Do you have a few minutes for a private conversation, Amelia?"

She waved at the chair in answer. "I'm more than willing to take a break from reports and evaluations," she replied, as she shifted her papers out of the way. "What can I do for you, David?"

"Prior to her departure, I had a talk with Doctor Wing, and your friend, Ms Harrison." A thin smile appeared as Amelia's eyes narrowed. "After attempting to find useful training methods for someone with her ... unique capabilities, I was finally informed of some of what is occurring. A part of that revelation included the fact that you have your own need for similar training, even though your abilities aren't quite the same as hers. She also mentioned her suspicion that our firewall pounding is likely due to her arrival at Wing."

Her hand twitched from a repressed urge to fiddle with her earring, as she considered his statement. "That's our working hypothesis at the moment, though the firewall is only one of the issues we're looking at."

"By 'we,' I presume you refer to the others she referred to as her sisters?"

Amelia's hand completed its interrupted journey to her earring, drawing a wider smile from the man. "Yes. There are only a few of us at the moment, which is why we must be careful about letting people into our secret."

"I understand, Amelia. I've been in a similar situation, at times. As I mentioned, I was asked if I'd volunteer to work at training you and any others like you in the vicinity. Are you interested? If so, what sort of schedule would be convenient?"

Their discussion lasted a good half-hour, and touched not only on the training, but also on other WGSS-related security issues the Amazons had identified.

"We're limited in just how much we can pass on to Joanne, so we're looking at what we can do to clean up our own mess. Now that I know you're 'in the loop,' I'll keep you apprised of what we find out."

David stood, preparing to leave. "This situation is quite unique, but I look forward to working with you and your friends, Amelia. When you and your partner decide on your availability, I'll begin my own preparations."

"Thank you, David, and I'm sure Nicole would, and will, add her own thanks."

*****
Fairfax, VA
Hunter Security

"We've been able to get a sample equipment list from the security firm that set up Wing's protection. One of their people had a bit too much debt, and we took care of that in exchange for some harmless data. We should have a nice handle on him, now, that will make the next request for information easier."

Rod felt a twinge of conscience at the prospect of blackmail. The last few months had forced him to organize, or help organize, several operations that, at best, straddled the line of his personal comfort zone. The danger presented by renegade Artemis-worshippers was such that he'd do almost anything to protect the world from those lunatics. "Good start, Frank. Keep working it; I'd like an evaluation of the system capabilities by next week. How's the vending machine operation going?"

"That's all set to go. The trigger command has been sent, and the timer will expire on Wednesday. I'd expect the call to go out that afternoon, and by Thursday we'll have our monitor."

"How's the recheck of the people at the airport going, Todd?"

"Not too bad, but a bit slow. There were a *lot* of people running around that facility, but between the original research, and our follow-up, we're about ten percent done with our checking. It took most of the last week to pull all the tapes from Central, and then correlate the people on the video with our database. I have one man working database updates, another cross-checking the video, and we're working with the other offices to nail down families we hadn't checked before. It will take at least another three weeks to do an adequate job of investigating, possibly as much as five weeks."

"Take the extra time if you have to. We don't want to miss a link by rushing. Okay, people, keep it up. We're making good progress, and for once I'm not overly concerned about the conference call tomorrow. If there are any problems of any sort, yell for help from the others on the team, or call me if they're busy.

*****
West Hollywood, CA
Tanner Home

~That was interesting,~ Kate thought, as she hung up her phone.

The Basts had apparently gained quite a reputation, when they were still employees of another security firm in LA. Her contact at the studio had almost laughed at her question.

"They're completely trustworthy, as well as being thorough and efficient. I've heard they tend to be expensive, but only because they allow themselves resources to ensure the job's done as close to perfect as possible. They also don't take jobs for shady characters -- those two are as white hat as it gets."

~Good news, I think, and something to share with both Judith and Amelia.~

*****
Tuesday, April 10, 2001 (Week 2) (Fog;88/63)
Parris Island, SC

Ida hissed in pain as she and her partner worked through a series of body hardening exercises for the Martial Arts course. There were only seven exercises, each targeting a different nerve or muscle group, but even a paltry ten reps *hurt* by the end of the series.

Nicole's arms ached, too, as the instructor began to outline the subject matter of the day, "Upper Body Strikes." Sergeant Jackson finished up her lecture with a reminder.

"Remember: 'Heavy Hands.' Follow through with your strike; punch *through* the target. You don't have to use all your strength to be effective if you do it right. Fight smart and efficient. Let your opponent wear himself out. Okay, the first technique is the 'hammer fist'...."

For the next half-hour, the group practiced hand strike techniques, then switched to elbow strikes. It felt a little silly to be punching in the air, but it was safer that way. Nicole was also very, VERY glad she'd worked with David on her control.

She'd hate to put one of her fellow recruits in the hospital.

Even Ida.

Probably.

*****

Connie's aches from being hammered during the martial arts training waned slowly, but despite the minor distraction she still felt a bit overwhelmed at the amount of information presented during the platoon's Marine uniform training. Evening dress uniforms, blue dress uniforms, blue-white, service, utility uniforms -- thirteen variants for women, and each with its own set of restrictions on when and where it may be worn.

~Mind boggling! I'll be burning sleep time trying to memorize all this.~

Uniforms weren't intended to be fashionable, but she had to admit that at least the female uniforms didn't look too horrible. She was sure that some test during the next few weeks would pick on some obscure detail, catch someone on it, and the whole section would be out doing IPT in the hot, humid South Carolina coastlands.

After getting caught and reamed out for having a spurious thread lying in a seam, there was no detail Connie was willing to assume would be missed.

*****
Fairfax, VA
WGSS Offices

Amelia pulled up a browser window, and was pleased to see a pair of messages waiting. The first, sent by Judith and copied to Kate, had tracking numbers for two small packages sent to Amelia and Kate. The message was thin on detail as to the content of each package, but she suspected they held the secure credit cards that had been promised.

Judith had also commented that they intended to call in their own industrial security chief to review Genny Bast's proposal when it arrived. It was, she felt, a logical and safe approach that held no real risk of exposing the Amazons.

~She and David have dealt with this stuff for years; I hope she's right that we'll be okay. This consulting company sounds like a good idea, though, now that I think of it. It's low key, ambiguous, and unlikely to trigger any red flags on the tax front.~

Happily, the second message was from the Basts and contained their proposal and a quote good for thirty days. She looked at the cost breakdown, and then the total for everything; she gulped at the bottom line.

~I've handled more dollars for Wing, but ... wow! This is a fair chunk of money.~ She shook her head. ~I'll toss this one off to Kate and Judith to handle.~ She prepared the message for forwarding, only adding a brief comment that Trish's contacts in the DC music community had only praise for the company. She'd defer her approval pending better information regarding costs, though, if anyone else had additional data.

~So far, everyone who's commented on BAST has had only praise. I suppose that's a good thing, but we'll see if Judith uncovers anything. I should probably talk to Joanne at some point, too. She should know that someone is checking out some of these issues.~ She sat quietly for a moment, tugging on her earlobe as she considered the situation. ~I don't see the need to involve Michael or Artemis, yet. I chat with Joanne often enough that it won't attract attention; the other two might.~

*****
West Hollywood, CA
Tanner Home

Kate looked over her messages and, not for the first time, felt entirely out of her depth.

Credit cards, though the intent was obviously for whatever incidental expenses came up for the Amazons, weren't out of her range of experience. She whimpered a bit when she read the part of the message that tagged her as the Chief Operating Officer, though it wasn't any worse, really, than the headache she was saddled with anyway.

~Other than being real ... and having real world legal repercussions. I notice, though, that there's a slot for a CEO that's currently unfilled. Gee, I *wonder* who's getting that spot.~ She snickered to herself. ~Nicole's gonna be a CEO, whether she likes it or not!~

A packet was on its way with forms for her to sign and return. She was grateful that the Epps legal staff was handling the legwork; she'd have been utterly lost.

*****
Wednesday, April 11, 2001
Epps Home

David scanned the American security firm's proposal with growing respect for the people who'd produced it.

~Well organized, and careful to outline what they would and would not be doing. A good executive summary,~ he nodded as he scanned it again, ~and sufficient detail to accurately evaluate their operations and integrity.~ He was pleased to note that the proposal explicitly stated their unwillingness to break the law.

~"Our firm's success depends on good relations with local, state, and federal law enforcement agencies. We will not accept any task that will violate the trust we have earned." Which is a bit different from saying they won't stretch the rules. Oh, I *like* these people.~

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock from his study's door. Judith stood just inside his sanctum sanctorum, and was accompanied by a familiar man. Reginald Marsh had been hired from the Security Service, MI5, twenty years ago by David's father. Competition in the confections market had led to a marked increase in industrial espionage -- something Reginald had been trained to counter.

~I still wonder if he was sent to work for us, rather than lured away,~ David mused. It made sense as a way of retaining a ready cadre of agents in locations where they could hone their skills, while still allowing budget reallocations to the priority of the month. He shrugged mental shoulders as he rose to greet his guest.

"Welcome, Reggie! How was the trip from London?" All three moved to take seats near David's desk as Reggie responded.

"It was unremarkable, unfortunately. There were far too many vehicles for available road capacity, even at this hour. The time wasn't entirely wasted, as I was able to ponder the proposal you e-mailed. I have a question or two I'd like to ask, if I may?"

Judith gave him a curious look. "You were hired to handle our security. Why wouldn't you be able to ask questions?"

Marsh frowned slightly at his employers. "With all due respect, Mrs. Epps, you and your husband's behavior has been a bit ... eccentric since early February, since that attempted mugging, actually. Then your abrupt excursion to America in mid-March without any sort of advanced warning to your security office...." Irritation flared in his eyes. "You've made my task much harder of late, and now you've hared off and started this consultancy without having apprised me or my staff of its purpose and scope."

David looked a question toward his wife.

"He'll pretty much have to know, David. He's been with us long enough to hear us out."

Reggie's confusion only grew as his employers outlined their reasons for the odd activities since February, as well as their rationale for the consultancy and investigation request. He didn't quite believe, nor had he even wanted to, until Judith had demonstrated one or two of her enhancements.

"I have not turned my coat, Reggie, but I have made a commitment. EC-Prime is a vehicle to allow us to legally provide funding to my new family. Someone -- we have no idea who, yet -- is attempting to hunt Miss Harrison down, and their attempts to do so are the reason for the contemplated investigation. David and I don't want too obvious a connection, which is our reason for not using your office. It is essential, as should be obvious, that you keep this to yourself."

"Yes. No doubt I'd be required to report for psychological examinations if I broached this subject, even were I inclined to do so." He shook his head in amusement. "Well, if I'm mad as Alice's hatter, we might as well take care of business until the rabbit makes his appearance. Now then, I was looking over the proposal...."

(to be continued ...)